Let's Go Home
by Endeavor Network
Summary: The Clois reunion from Justice League (2017) told from Lois's perspective.


**Let's Go Home**

Lois wouldn't believe what she was seeing was real if it weren't for the fact that it was so unlike her dreams. Clark was there, right in front of her. He was floating and gripping Batman by the neck. Further away, on the ground, lay the metahumans and Diana. She couldn't have made up something like this. She had never even seen the metahumans before, and her Clark would never hurt people who meant him no harm. Unless he felt threatened. She had to stop him before something bad happened. She clambered out of the car and ran around the side.

"Clark?" she called.

He looked at her, and all the rage dissolved from his features. He tossed Batman aside without a second thought and floated toward her. She wasn't afraid of him.

" _Yes, come to me,"_ she thought feverishly.

She was going to have him back. They could start over. It really was a miracle. He landed in front of her and stared. She supposed he was in shock.

"Clark, please…please."

She walked towards him, not really paying attention to what was coming out of her mouth. Just to speak to him again was something she so badly needed.

"Let's go," she whispered, shakily touching his shoulders.

Yes, he was real. His skin was wet with something fragrant and alien. She drew herself closer and hugged him.

"Yeah. Let's go," she repeated, eyes drifting closed.

He hesitated before hugging her back, then buried his face in her neck. The familiar gesture made her want to cry. Suddenly, her feet left the ground. She opened her eyes and saw the city shrinking below them. He was taking them away. She pressed her face into his shoulder.

"Clark," she breathed slowly.

The wind whipped strands of her hair into her face. It was strange that he hadn't said anything yet. She leaned back to look at him. He looked her in the eyes and suddenly stopped flying.

"Lois?"

She felt a pang of terror. Was he only just recognizing her?

"Yes, I'm Lois," she replied as calmly as she could manage.

She had to be composed for him. He had been through a traumatic experience.

"Do you remember me?" she continued.

He hesitated.

"Yes. I didn't remember your name, but I knew you. I knew that I…I…"

"Do you love me?"

He glanced down shyly.

"Yeah."

Dear God, he just came back from the dead, and he was capable of being bashful? She grinned.

"It's ok. I love you, too."

She kissed him. It was slow and tentative at first, but quickly evolved into passionate. They held each other tightly and made quiet noises in the backs of their throats. It was Clark who pulled away first, panting slightly. He drank in the sight of her face, then ducked his head and planted a trail of kisses down her throat. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. This part was too much like her dreams. He pulled away and started flying again.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not sure."

She didn't really care where they went, so long as they were together. When they touched down on earth again, she looked around. It was the Kent farm.

"You brought us here. You remembered."

"This is home," he said confidently.

She was proud of him. She realized that her hands were resting on his abdomen. She couldn't let go of him, not even for a second; because she was so happy to have him back, but also because of the fear that he would disappear. And there was that sweet scent again.

"You smell good," she confessed, smiling awkwardly.

He looked at her.

"Did I not before?"

She wondered if he was being sarcastic or if he was genuinely curious. She took a few steps and extended her hand. He took it and she lead him to the house. When they entered, she watched him warily in case he got confused or angry at the empty space. His brow furrowed slightly, but that was all. She held his hand the entire time as they wandered from room to room. In the upstairs hallway, he paused and stared at the open doorway to his parents' old bedroom. Then, he turned to the left and entered his room. He stared at the spot where his bed used to be.

"This was your room, Clark."

He nodded slowly.

"Where are my parents?"

This was cause to be nervous again, but she mostly felt sympathy for him.

"Your mother had to put up the farm for sale because she couldn't afford the payments. She moved a couple weeks ago."

"Where's Dad?"

She sighed and took his hands in hers, making him face her.

"Clark…your father passed away years ago."

His eyes wandered away from hers, over to a point on the floor behind her. He looked sorrowful, but not surprised. He must have had a feeling. She couldn't bear to see him like this. She pressed her left hand to his cheek so he would look at her.

"How much do you remember from before?" she asked, trying to distract him.

"Before what?"

"Before you…" she paused, eyes falling to the center of his chest, where the gaping hole used to be, "died."

He thought for a minute.

"A monster. There was a monster. What happened to it?"

"You killed it."

"Good."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"Green light."

She wasn't sure she wanted to clarify that one for him since she had just seen him choking Bruce Wayne. She rested her hands on his chest.

"Just list off things as you recall them."

"My suit," he said and placed his hands on her waist, "Where is it?"

"Martha has it."

"There was fire, too. And you. I keep seeing you."

He reached up and ran a strand of her hair between his index and middle fingers. She blushed.

"We have an apartment together," she said.

He looked thoughtful as he continued playing with her hair.

"You moved in with me when you came to Metropolis. After what happened with Zod."

He froze, and his eyes glazed over.

"Zod…..Yes."

"You moved in with me and got a job in the city. We worked together. Do you know where?"

Clark, however, appeared to only be interested in her jawline. The backs of his fingers caressed the edge, then dropped to brush down her neck. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she inhaled sharply.

"Newspaper," he mumbled.

She smiled, but her heart fluttered at the lower pitch of his voice.

"That's right. It's called _The Daily Planet_. Perry's our boss, and he always yells at you. And Jenny, she's a staffer and our friend. Do you remember them?"

He smiled softly, but answered, "No."

He wrapped his fingers lightly around her neck, palm pressing against the side, and she forgot how to breath. He lowered his head and gazed at her lips before kissing them. His hand didn't restrict her windpipe at all, but even when he moved it and rested it on her back, her breathing came shallow. He pulled her body to his, and her hands sunk into his pectorals. She squeezed them and pressed in closer. He pulled away, and she gasped as he kissed behind her ear. His hands slipped beneath her shirt and slid up her back. His skin felt wonderful against hers, and her knees were getting weak, but she was suddenly too hot. He kissed further down, his tongue darting out. When he reached the top button of her shirt, he undid it with his teeth and kept going till he reached cleavage. He groaned as he nuzzled his nose into it. Then, he came back up and kissed her hungrily. His right hand moved to the front of her shirt, and the other hand grabbed her butt.

She had fantasized about this many times, but now that it was happening, it was too much at once. She needed a minute. She pushed against his chest and wrenched herself out of the kiss. The next second, he was four feet away from her.

"I'm sorry," he said with a chagrined expression.

"No, no," she said between gasps, "It's not you…I'm just…a little overwhelmed by everything that's happened today."

When she could breathe evenly again, she came closer and rested her hands on his shoulders.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby."

She kissed and hugged him, and he hugged her back and nestled his face in the crook of her neck again. She pulled away, sat on the floor, and patted the spot to her left. He sat down, and she leaned against his side. She told him about his childhood as well as her own memories of him. After a while, they curled up together, and she tucked his head underneath her chin and absently scratched his scalp. He listened intently and was mostly silent, but occasionally asked questions.

"I should call Martha," she said for the second time since they laid down.

He hummed in agreement and brushed the outline of one of her ribs with his thumb, "Where is she staying?"

"With her friend Anne, a few miles from here."

They fell silent, but Lois didn't reach for her phone. Clark tilted his head to look up at her.

"Do you want to be alone for a while before you call her?" he asked.

She supposed she should be embarrassed by the suggestion, but they both felt the same way.

"I'll do it soon," she said as she stroked his ears.

He smiled softly, and she was dazzled by his beauty, just like she used to be early in their relationship. She told him as much, and he grinned.

"I feel the same."

He leaned up to kiss her.

"You're more beautiful than ever, Lois," he said against her lips.

"How do you remember how beautiful I used to be?" she joked.

"I feel a lot better now," he mumbled before kissing her again.

She rested one hand over his heart.

"There's no scar," she whispered, then leaned down to kiss the spot.

She let her lips brush over the area.

"Yeah," he said softly, "I don't understand how they did that…I really owe them an apology."

She continued across his chest, then up to his collarbone. He sighed as her fingertips ghosted over his nipples. She moved up his throat and kissed along his jawline. He pulled her closer and rested his left hand on the back of her neck. Their lips met in a slow, indulgent kiss, and their hands roamed over every part of the other that they could reach, appreciating what they never thought they'd touch again. He pulled at the lapels of her jacket, and she detached herself from him to pull it off. Then, she grabbed him by the shoulders, rolled him onto his back, and straddled his hips. He reached up and started undoing her shirt. She slid her hands down his arms as he did so, but he stopped and took her left hand. He stared at the ring on her finger.

"I saw this before, you know," he said quietly, "Did Mom give it to you?"

"Yes."

He looked her in the eyes, and she wondered if he was about to propose. Instead, he kissed the stone and continued unbuttoning her shirt. He slid the blouse off her shoulders, and her skin prickled in the cool air. He sat up and reverently pressed his lips to the swells emerging from her bra. He nudged his nose in between them again and licked into the crevice, tasting her sweat. Lois couldn't keep her hands still. She touched his back, his arms, his hair, his ears. He slid his face up to her neck and planted a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the pulse-point.

"I love you," she gasped.

"I love you," he half-whispered, half-groaned.

He bit and sucked her neck while he undid the clasp of her bra, then tossed it aside and looked down at her. Impossibly, she was even more beautiful than before. He titled her back to lay her on the floor. She didn't like being away from the heat of his body, but he appeased her when he rested his palms on her breasts. He drew in a sharp intake of breath at the feel of the supple flesh and rubbed his hands back and forth, relishing the texture of the firm nipples against his skin.

In her current position, her legs were spread around his waist. Lois's mind was turned to one thing. She needed him to drown her in love, hard and passionate till she forgot he was ever gone. She needed the memories of that terrible time to be erased, even just temporarily.

He rubbed her nipples gently with his thumbs, then leaned over her and lifted her arms above her head. He stroked them, tracing the tendons with his fingers. His face was only an inch from hers, and they shared each other's breaths. Clark could swear to God he had never been so aroused. He wanted to plunge into her. He could only imagine what it would feel like. He had to touch every inch of her to remember again, remember what they did together and how it made him feel. A low whimper tumbled out of his mouth as he released her arms and slid down to her chest. He pressed his cheek to her breastbone, listening to the thundering of her heart. Her hands stroked up his arms, shoulders, and into his hair.

"My darling," she breathed.

Had she ever called him that while he was alive? He couldn't be sure. He propped himself up on his elbows and dove for her mouth. Their tongues danced together, and her hands grasped at his rear.

When their lips noisily parted, they both gasped at the same time.

"I need you –"

"Please –"

They paused, then he sat back and it was all he could do to remove their clothes without tearing them to shreds. He leaned over her again, and she held his face in her hands. He held his penis in one hand and guided it to her wet labia. They both flinched at the contact. He took a moment to collect himself, then pressed forward. He sighed as the tip entered, and she moaned in rapt anticipation. He let go of the shaft, rested his hands beside her shoulders, and pushed in slowly. There was more resistance then he was used to, but it was still heavenly. It was like coming home.

"Lois, I love you."

"I love you, too."

When their hips were flush, they locked gazes. She hooked her legs up onto his hips, and he held her upper waist and started moving. The sounds of their loud panting filled the room.

"Harder," she said thickly, and he obeyed.

Her hips twitched upwards as he ground against her, and they kissed sloppily.

"I promise," he breathed, "I won't leave you again. Never again."

He shouldn't promise things like that, but she needed to hear it, and he needed to say it. She whimpered, and a sob suddenly broke out of her throat. Then another one came, and another.

"Don't cry," he pleaded, but his voice cracked, and two tears fell from his eyes onto her cheeks.

She couldn't stop it, and soon, she was shaking. He pulled out, rolled them onto their sides, and held her till it subsided.

"I'm sorry," she croaked, wiping the tears away with her arm.

"I understand," he said hoarsely and sniffled, "Look, I'm crying, too."

"Can we try again?"

"I don't think we should, Lo. Maybe we could just…touch each other for a while."

"But I'm ok now. I want to."

He looked concerned.

"Please, Clark. Do you…do you still want to?"

If he was being honest with himself, the answer was yes. But they were both emotional, and his mind wasn't fully recovered yet. A lapse of concentration would be more dangerous now than ever. They should wait until he was better. But every cell in his body, every fibre of his being told him to make love to her. He wanted to comfort her, as well as himself.

"I might –" he began, but started over, "I have to be careful. Maybe you should get on top."

"Thank you."

He rolled them over, and she mounted him. She moved slowly, and he held her hips to help her. After a while, she leaned over him, and they kissed tenderly. The tears returned soon, but they were silent. They climaxed together with soft gasps and groans.

"I love you."

"I love you."

They lay in each other's arms until their eyes dried up and exhaustion pulled them under.


End file.
